


Weaker Now

by sablier_bloque



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sablier_bloque/pseuds/sablier_bloque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon will do whatever it takes to make Stefan his brother again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weaker Now

**Author's Note:**

> Mild spoilers for 1.03; betaed by autumn_lilacs

“Pathetic.”

Damon leans against the oak tree. With his arms crossed against his chest and his feet crossed at the tree’s roots, he watches his brother throw the lifeless body of a squirrel on the ground. It’s so dark that a human would barely see the shape of Stefan’s body amongst the trees, but Damon can easily see Stefan roll his eyes when he rises to his feet. Or maybe Damon just knows him so well that he expects Stefan to roll his eyes.

Damon walks slowly toward his brother and picks up the squirrel. He sniffs it, his nose crinkling at its musty smell, not even a weak blood source to make it at all enticing. He tosses it, wiping his hand on his jeans to get rid of some of the dirt.

“I’m surprised that you’re still alive surviving off this filth. Which one fights harder, squirrels or raccoons?”

“What do you want?” Stefan asks, taking a step back when Damon moves in closer.

“You could at least befriend a butcher and score some cow blood. Pig?”

Stefan rolls his shoulders and glares. “I like the—“ he whispers, but stops himself.

“What was that?” Damon whispers back, a sly grin on his face as he leans in close to Stefan’s ear. “I didn’t hear you.”

Stefan pushes at him feebly. Damon criticizes his weakness, but Damon isn’t trying to be forceful. Stefan could push him away if he tried.

“What do you like, Stefan?” Damon asks, pleased to feel his brother shiver against him, probably remembering the same thing Damon is: _What do you want, Stefan? Does that feel good? Like that? Jesus, the things you do to me_. “Tell me.”

“The hunt,” he answers through gritted teeth.

Damon laughs. “The hunt? You miss the hunt, baby brother?” He grabs Stefan’s arm and gives it a small tug. “There’s a party about two miles from here. Probably some couple has run off to fuck and—“

“No! No!” Stefan wrenches his arm away and is 10 steps away by the time Damon blinks. “I’m _not_ going to do that.”

Damon crowds him against a tree even quicker than Stefan moved. “This is what we are, Stefan.”

“No, I know there’s still—“

“Humanity in me? We aren’t _human_.” Damon lets Stefan see his fangs and he runs his tongue over them. “This isn’t human.” Damon grabs Stefan’s chin gently. “Let me see them.” Stefan moves his face and lowers his eyes, obviously uncomfortable from the intensity of Damon’s closeness. “Uh-uh, Stefan. You can’t hide from me. Can’t hide all those… _inhuman_ things we used to get up to.” Damon presses his hips forward, stifling the moan that threatens to escape as his hardening cock brushes against Stefan’s thigh.

“Damon,” Stefan says, warning dripping off his voice, icier than the coolness of his skin.

Damon steps back. “Hunt me.”

Stefan turns his eyes to his brother; his fangs are retracted but the skin around his eyes burns red.

Good. Damon hasn’t lost his touch when it comes to his baby brother.

“What?” Stefan asks, clearly confused.

“Hunt me.” Damon throws his hands wide. “If you miss the hunt so much, and you’re too buried in your ‘woe-is-me’ emo bullshit to go after good meat, hunt _me_. And get yourself some real blood from a butcher in the morning.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you miss the _thrill_. The cat-and-mouse chase. You’ve got your head so wrapped around _Elena_ \--“

“Don’t even bring her up in—“

“—And you’re so busy convincing yourself that you’re still human that I bet you don’t even remember what it all feels like. Sweet,” he crowds against Stefan again, “and warm,” Damon traces his neck where Stefan’s pulse would be, “pulsing into your mouth. Life,” he runs his index finger down Stefan’s chest, “spreading through each and every…” he stops at the button of Stefan’s jeans, “extremity.”

Stefan pushes Damon away from him, fangs bared. Damon laughs, loving that he still gets Stefan so riled up. Something snaps in Stefan, Damon’s laughter acting as a catalyst, and he lunges toward Damon. Damon runs, knowing his brother will never catch up but enjoying the fear of just maybe getting caught. They’re almost completely silent; both of them running faster than any human eye could see, and only an occasional movement of leaves rustling on the earth’s floor lets them know where the other is.

Damon turns and suddenly they’re chasing each other, zigzagging through massive oaks and pines, his shoes getting wet from the dew on the ground. Damon remembers when they were young, when they were still _alive_ , and they’d chase each other around their parent’s property for hours in the summer.

And yes, they were alive then, but Damon wouldn’t give any of this up for a beating heart. Hunter and prey; brother and brother.

Damon gets so lost in the chase, in how good it feels to be doing this with Stefan again, that he forgets that he’s stronger, faster. He pounces on Stefan, rolling them in the brown, crisp leaves. Damon’s hands hold Stefan’s wrist against the ground as he straddles him, and he looks at his brother’s visible fangs.

“Remember when we first did this?” Damon asks. Stefan struggles weakly against him, but Damon holds him down. He needs to hear this. “You were… 16? And we had gone fishing. Nothing was catching and we were bored. So we made that bet about who could catch the other first.

“It was so different that time. Well,” Damon shrugs, smiling, “I won both times. But you were breathing hard… and your blood was pumping so hard when I touched the pulse points on your wrists. And then I just moved,” Damon shifts his hips against Stefan, feeling his brother half hard against him and watching Stefan close his eyes, “like this. And I realized my baby brother wasn’t really a baby anymore.” He moves against Stefan again, enjoying the pained look on Stefan’s face as he tries not to moan. “Do you remember?” he asks again.

“Yes,” Stefan says, feigning strength in his voice as he finally meets Damon’s eyes. Damon can’t help but smile, because that admission is Stefan giving in, even if it’s just a little.

“What happened next?” Damon asks and shifts forward so that his chest touches Stefan’s. His tongue ghosts across Stefan’s neck. “I never had that amazing memory for details that you always did.” Which is true but also a total lie. Over 100 years have passed and Damon still remembers everything about that day; the warm air, the soft soil, Stefan’s breathy cries.

“Damon,” Stefan says. He is angry and unsure and Damon grinds against him again, drawing a small cry from Stefan’s lips. “You tried to get up and I grabbed you and kissed you.”

“Mmm, and people always thought I was the daring and mischievous one.”

“You were a bad influence,” Stefan says, his hips unable to _not_ move against his brother. Damon’s lips move to Stefan’s, not quite touching, and his tongue traces over Stefan’s fangs.

“Still am, it seems.” Damon is shocked when Stefan finally surrenders, Stefan’s lips bruising against his own, forceful and angry – angry at Damon for making him do this, angry at himself for actually letting him. Stefan’s tongue is in his mouth, tangling with his own, catching a bit on Damon’s teeth and making him bleed. Damon moans long and low at the taste of his brother’s blood in his mouth. There’s nothing sweeter, even if it tastes weaker than it used to.

“So long, so fucking long,” Damon says and he’s tearing at Stefan’s pants, just not getting them down quickly enough. “Tell me you missed this.” Stefan moans as Damon’s hand wraps around his cock and tugs hard. Still just as beautiful as he remembered.

“God.”

“Tell me. Damn it, Stefan. Fucking tell… I know you have.” Stefan is taking Damon’s dick through the slit of his boxers and Damon throws his head back at the feeling of Stefan’s cool hand against his cock, fast, unforgiving, and the best thing he’s felt in so, so long.

He suddenly feels Stefan’s lips move against his throat, a tease of teeth, and he almost comes from the thought alone of Stefan tasting him.

“Do it,” Damon whispers, both loving and hating the fact that he can’t _make_ Stefan do it like he can bend the minds of all of those nameless, faceless girls. He tightens his grip on Stefan’s cock, the pressure just this side of painful, and his brother cries out.

“No, no. Not going to.”

“Look at me,” he says, grabbing Stefan’s hair and forcing him to face him. They’re still stroking each other roughly, and Stefan’s thumb presses against his slit. _Jesus_. “We’ve never _not_ done this, Stefan. I’m not drinking from you when you’re this fucking weak. So _do it_.”

He kisses Stefan again, but this time Damon is in control of it, forcing his mouth against his brother’s while Stefan’s body melds against his. He wishes they were naked, so that he could feel all that silky smooth skin against his own instead of cotton and denim. “Do it,” he says again. Stefan’s teeth pierce his neck, blood pooling freely as Stefan drinks it from him. Stefan moans greedily, his hand speeding up on Damon’s cock, and Damon is so close that he can almost taste it.

“Stefan,” he half whispers, half moans, and he hates that his voice betrays him, revealing too much about how he feels. His brain is fuzzy from losing the blood, from being here with Stefan again. He moves his hand faster against Stefan’s cock. Stefan cries out again, his body shaking as he comes, his teeth still in Damon’s neck, sucking as though it’s the only thing keeping him alive. The thought that Stefan is probably high from the quality of his blood, from just _tasting_ Damon again sends Damon over the edge faster and harder than he has in years. Sharp white pleasure courses through his groin as his brother strokes him through wave after wave.

He’s lost to everything until he feels Stefan lapping at his neck wounds, reverently tasting every last drop until he heals, lips caressing the tingling skin. He’s weaker now, weaker than he’s been in a long time, but it’s okay.

Damon will bleed himself dry if it will take Stefan away from Elena.

If it will make them _brothers_ again.


End file.
